|Howdy, Pardner! (I had to sneak in this picture of my granddaughter!)|
It's been a fascinating week thus far. I've been hard pressed to keep up with all the terrific Epsteam treasuries featuring Peppy's shop, and I've had fun making my own treasuries to return the favor to the many team members who've been so enthusiastic in their support.
Occasionally the fur kids have felt a little neglected, but they're generally good sports. They have their individual ways of letting me know when they've wearied of my staring the computer screen: Lollia will simply sit beside me and bore into me with her plaintive dark eyes until I look around, Wickham will hop up a few times and bat me with a paw, making a sort of "harrumph"-ing sound, and Pep, who is not a barker unless there are people or cars about that he's not familiar with, will fix me in his gaze and give a quiet rumbling "grrr" low in his throat.
When the poms start giving me this treatment, I know I've forgotten something important, such as those all-important bathroom-and-chase-the-squirrels breaks, Carrot Time (I capitalize it because that's how they think of it--every day at noon, they must have their raw carrot pieces), "Mom, you're supposed to cram yourself into the armchair with us and read the Bible" time or, of course, SUPPER.
I think they'll be relieved when life gets back to normal, or what passes for normal around here. Right now, after waking me up at 5:20 a.m. for the morning trip outside and an early breakfast, they're all dozing and waiting for me to do something they consider interesting.
Here's a look at Peppy, lying beneath the counter at my feet:
He's partly sleepy, and partly just annoyed with me at the moment.
Cameras... computers... sheesh!
Lollia is looking relaxed in a cozy nest she's scraped up for herself in a little blanket. (The nest thing is something all three of these dogs like to do. I wonder if it's a pomeranian trait or if all dogs like it? Nothing pleases them better than to paw through a pile of laundry I'm sorting or towels that have been dropped on the floor by certain menfolk who shall remain nameless, and shaping them into a little rumpled napping spots.)
Wicky looked up sleepily from his snooze on the couch nearest the door. He's the Chief Watchman and likes to be able to keep an eye on the window to alert us to anything happening outside. Wickham's definitely a big dog in a small body, and he likes to do his rounds and is wonderfully, happily curious about everything. He looks rather fuzzy this morning even though he had a thorough brushing last night. He has a huge puffball coat and one sprint through dewy grass in the morning causes it to curl and kink all over again. He's such a softie, and so squeezable! I find him irresistable, like Mr. Whipple does the Charmin bathroom tissue.